Brave
by tardisblues
Summary: "Are you scared?"


**A/N:** Yet another Makorra one-shot to avoid working on other things. Enjoy!

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><p>Forcing the back door open, it banged against the wall, the knob leaving a small indentation in the wall, but Korra didn't notice. She was too irate, too flustered, to give her surroundings a first thought much less a second one. Resisting the urge to reach up and rip her hair out, Korra started down the steps, intent on leaving this stupid party to stew silently in her room. She was barely halfway down the stairs when she heard him.<p>

"Korra, please, I want to – Korra, wait!"

Despite her every desire to ignore him and flee, she stopped, her hand gripping the railing so tightly, the dark skin of her knuckles began to lighten. Her jaw clenched, her teeth ground together, and it was very hard to distinguish colors as everything was tinged with red. "What?" she managed, her voice quivering from the poorly suppressed emotions.

Several beats of thick silence passed before he spoke and when he did, his words were soft, almost hard to hear over the din of the party. "Don't go."

"Why not?" Korra demanded, tossing a scornful look over her shoulder. "Haven't finished insulting me yet? Got a few more jabs you want to use?" When he didn't answer, she shook her head, the ends of her long hair tickling the curve of her shoulder blades, left bare by her dress – the dress she had worn for this party to impress their peers and sponsors, but mostly him. She snorted derisively. What a dumb idea.

"No, of course not," Mako replied. The gentleness in his tone might have soothed someone else, but it only served as further irritation for Korra. She didn't want to be calmed; she wanted to shout and scream at him for being a jerk, maybe hit him a few times for good measure. Wetting his lips, Mako continued, "Look, Korra, I'm –"

"I'm not interested in an apology," she interrupted, letting go of the railing to turn and glare at him.

The blaze in her blue eyes made his heart leap into his throat. Mako had thought he'd seen every stage of anger in the young Avatar, from mild frustration to complete rage but in all of the months since they had met, he had never seen her like this before. She wasn't shaking, which was the alarming part. Korra was always in motion, a force to be reckoned with, and now she was perfectly still. Her body was tense with fury; it was as intimidating as it was disconcerting.

"But –"

"I don't care," Korra spat, tilting her chin. The dull glow of the gas lanterns caught her eye, highlighting the gleaming sheen of tears – angry tears that he had caused when he pushed her away after she listened to her gut and kissed him. She folded her arms over her chest, cupping her biceps with her hands for a bit of warmth. It was surprisingly chilly out of doors. "Spare me your pity and let me alone."

In any other situation, Mako would have backed off, but he was sick of letting the people he cared about fall to the wayside because of something he did or said. He was tired of his relationships crumbling rather than fighting for them. There weren't many people in his life that he truly gave a damn about, but over the last few months, Korra had, by some form of miracle, become one of those people. He wasn't going to let her slip through his fingers, especially when she was still so near to him.

After a long stretch of silence, Mako said, "No."

Her head snapped up and she met his eyes. "No?" Korra parroted incredulously. The disbelief in her voice coupled with her expression might have been comical in a different circumstance, but the fact remained that they were standing on the brink. Of what, he couldn't be certain, but he knew it was important. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean exactly what I said - no," he repeated with a firm shake of his head. He descended down a step, decreasing the distance between them. "I'm not going to leave you alone because you're afraid to have this conversation."

Korra bristled at his accusation. "You think I'm afraid of this?" She gestured between them and scoffed, her nose wrinkling. "You're stupid. I'm not afraid of anything!"

"I don't believe you," Mako challenged, descending another step. He loomed above her, the top of her head just barely level with his chin. This close, he could smell the berry scent of her hair on the gentle breeze that ruffled their clothes and punctuated the tension between them. "Admit it," he added, dropping his voice to a low whisper. "You're just as scared as I am."

His breath stirred the tendrils of hair near her ear, sending a ghost of a shiver up her spine. "No," Korra countered, lifting her chin to meet his eyes. "I'm not." Firmly planting her foot on the stair above her, she pushed herself up, bringing them impossibly close. The motion caught them both off guard, Mako having to account for their sudden closeness and Korra not expecting it. His hand was on her elbow before she could shake it off, gentle and securing her in place. All the while, her gaze never left his, burning and smoldering as she stared into the ocher of his irises.

"I'm not scared. You might be, Mako, but I'm not any of those things," she insisted, the tremble in her voice weakening her argument. "I'm not scared or frightened or afraid. I'm not because –" she paused to regain her composure before the tears welling in her eyes could escape. "I'm the Avatar. I can't afford to be scared."

"You might be the Avatar," Mako began, letting go of her elbow to trail his fingers up her arm. She inhaled sharply, the crispness of the night air stinging her lungs. The warmth of his fingertips, light thought they were against her skin, seemed to chase the chill away. "But you're a human being first." He locked eyes with her then, just as his hand reached the curve of her shoulder. Catching a stray lock, he tucked it behind her ear. He let his hand linger near her ear, the tip of his pinky brushing the base of her neck. "You don't always have to be brave."

"Y-yes I do," she breathed, her words hitching in her throat as she closed her eyes, a few tears escaping.

Mako caught them with his thumb, wiping them away as his other hand cupped her face. His eyes burned into hers as he swept the pad of his thumb along the length of her cheekbone, then down the side of her jaw until his fingers curled around her chin. "Not for me, you don't," he murmured, breaking his gaze to stare at her mouth. "I can be brave for you." Dipping his head, he captured her lips with his own.

Korra stiffened underneath the pressure of his lips and the weight of his hands on her cheeks because _Mako was kissing her. _Not even an hour ago, she kissed her him, only to be told in a whisper that they couldn't do this, not now, and she ran away, only to be followed by the boy who was working wonders with his mouth. A soft moan escaped her as the tip of his tongue swept along the pillow of her lips. Her fingers curled around the front of his tunic, bunching it up, as she relaxed under the feel of his mouth and the sear of his hand as it slid down the side of her throat and settled on the base of her neck. His fingers laced through the loose locks as he pulled her closer, his free hand drifting down to the small of her back, his palm meeting fabric, but his fingers touching her flesh.

Her head spun as she parted her lips, his tongue slipping into her mouth and teasingly raking along the side of her own. Tightening her grip on his shirt, she leaned into him, every line of their bodies touching, and upset their already tedious balance. Mako stumbled backwards, throwing out an arm to catch the railing and steady them, immediately missing the heat of her skin, especially as the cold metal bit against his ungloved hand, permeating even through the thick scar tissue that marred his palms. But then her tongue brushed along his, stirring warmth deep in the pit of his stomach, and he forgot about the absence of the feel of her smooth skin beneath his callused hand.

For a moment, he forgot his own name, but was reminded when she broke away and breathed it against his lips, which were raw and swollen and in dire need of another one of her searing kisses. Bunching up his tunic, she laid her palm against the flat of his stomach, fingertips exploring the crests and dips of his abdomen as she leaned forwards, attempting to close the distance between them, only to be thwarted when he pressed his forehead against hers.

"Are you scared?" he panted, his breath impossibly hot against her mouth.

As she raked her nails along his stomach, which caused him to shiver, she answered, in a low, tight whisper, "Terrified."

He didn't close the gap between them so much as he collapsed it, engulfing her in the circle of his arms and holding her so close, he could feel the frantic tattoo of her heart against his. In that moment, they weren't the same, but as they trembled with the terror of the unknown and the rush of something new, they were close enough.

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><p><strong>AN:** Not sure how I feel about the ending, but it is was it is, and I hope you liked it! Feedback is, as always, appreciated.


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